Tuesday, February 25, 2014

A friend of mine says she keeps checking the blog, not so much for a recovery update, since she gets daily emails, but in the hopes of reading some drug induced ramblings.

I'm going to assume you're here for both...

Surgery successful. Recovery challenging....especially for Susan who has been on call 24/7.

Need ice machine refilled at 2:30 am, call Susan. Need a saltine and a percoset at 3:30 am? Sheets changed, cats fed, litter changed, caps taken off water bottles, help in and out of the shower, clothes changed, sling positioned, orange peeled, who you gonna call?

Those of you who urged me to give it 3 days were so on target and these were the words I held on to thru day 2 when I needed all the drugs I could take but my body wasn't interested in housing them for long. I never knew how delicious saltines could be.

But by day 3 I was sipping vietnamese soup and eating crepes filled with honey and bananas. I even got to wash my hair.

Susan (a bit of a cat scaredey cat) is dealing with the cats by thinking of them as dogs. and they understand she's the new boss around here and treat her accordingly. Lucy has taken to sleeping with her.

In between numerous naps I catch up on Downton Abbey, House of Cards and am still struggling to finish last Thursday's New York Times.

If there's anything new in the world I'll be the last to know.

I have been working on this post since Sunday. I'm gonna give it up, ask Susan to add some caps and send it on it's way.

Soon I hope to come and visit you. If I leave a comment it may end up in spam, my left hand has a mind all it's own, and my brain is under the influence.

Monday, February 17, 2014

We did it. Thanks to the kindness of friends we survived the Smowmagedon that was Valentine's Day.

Thursday, Elle and Gus shoveled me out of the house and I hitched a ride with a co worker in an SUV driven by her husband and filled with her children, both ways. They picked me up at 11:00am and dropped me off at 8:30pm. Elle had made chicken noodle soup for dinner.

We drove throughthe storm, fought to find an open Starbucks, stripped off layers of scarves and hats, gloves and coats and got to work.

Our driver armed himself with a shovel and set off to deliver the goods.

For once everyone was home.

Friday we showed up bright and early, picked up our knives and sent flower stems flying.

Five delivery men, with the hearts of cowboys, riding steeds with 4 wheel drive.

Five designers high on caffeine.

Four women working retail. Making loose bouquets, ringing up cards, herding children and answering phones.

Bleary eyed we ate salad and pizza for lunch. There were two kinds of homemade cookies for snacking and a local restaurant sent over boxes of cake.

That was the week that was. Though I'm happy it's over for another year, I'm still extremly grateful for all the care extended to us, the florists. We may not write the songs that make the whole world sing, but on a good day we can put your love in a vase. And we thank those who notice.

Tuesday: Massive amounts of flowers will begin arriving, phones will be ringing and men will be unable to stand patiently in line to place their orders. They will stick their heads back and ask if it would be easier if I took their order.

No.

Wednesday: More of the above. When we walk out of design area to get flowers I advise other designers to keep eyes down and not make eye contact.

It's like the zoo. If you look them in the eye they think you're going to feed them.

Thursday: Phones ringing off hook, designers imitating windmills as flowers are placed in vases, water changed and cards added. Everything done in double time. Boxes of flowers still arriving, flowers cleaners stumbling up and down uneven tread staircase with 5 gallon buckets full of water and flowers.

And now the men are bringing in their children thinking this will break down the waiting time, cuteness factor and all.

No. Still can't help you. Have to do 1000 orders for men who stood in line on Tuesday.

Monday, February 3, 2014

I might not bake, but I'm always prepared. Kitchen Aid, a scale, parchment paper, baking pans of all shapes and sizes, you want it, I got it. Well except nutmeg, I seem to be out of nutmeg.
Elle found French butter and her sister sent recipes.

We started with pate brisee.

And ended with Quiche Lorraine.

But in between the Saturday night pastry making and the Sunday eating, quell disaster.

Elle dropped the Kitchen Aid on her foot. Do you know how heavy a Kitchen Aid is?

Heavy enough to send her off to the emergency room for 4 stitches.

Sunday afternoon , Elle resumed the lesson.

It was delicious.

Not to be undone by her walking boot she will wear for 8 weeks, she then whipped up a clementine cake.

We did have a Super Bowl party to attend after all.

As I was making my hummus, there was a knock on the door.

My new neighbor's brother was standing there with a towel wrapped around his wrist.

He had just cut his wrist with an exacto knife, another trip to the emergency room and six stitches for him.

There were no accidents at the SB party, though I'm sure Denver fans would disagree.

In the past week Elle has watched her first Grammys, State Of The Union and Super Bowl live.

She has visited an American emergency room, gone to Zumba, and lived through several snow and ice storms.

Gus has also stolen her hair clip and Lucy seems to be perpetually drenched in her perfume.

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It's spring and I'm living solo is a small but charming house with two kittens always ready for their closeups.
I spend all my spare time in the garden weeding and seeding.
I'm restructuring my life and learning to love it.